Insanity
by Schingiuire
Summary: Something shatters within Alucard's mind after repeated experimentation.


Thought was nonexistent at this point. He could feel, and understand, but there was no thought. Warm hands unchained him from the table. No resistance met them as they pulled his half aware form from the metal table, metal that shone red with his blood, blood that had been warped by countless hours from lying upon that table. Warped by countless hours of testing and experiments.

There was a knowledge, an understanding that he was somehow still alive, but his senses were not working properly, and thought as well as his voice had left him somewhere between the dissection and the injection of an odd, unknown metallic black liquid.

Someone groaned near him, or it might have come from his own unloving lungs. He could not be sure anymore. He could feel himself being moved and a sharp jar through his body as if he had been dropped or thrown. The air pulsed around him. He could feel movement, and there was a powerful disturbance of the air. Everything was still then.

Alucard struggled within himself, grasping at his fleeing sanity, what little of it that had followed him into the unlife. The doctors had not been kind to him this night. They felt behind in their work perhaps. Many of the other subjects had died, leaving the sick, dyeing, and the master's pet.

For some reason, they promised him power, might beyond anything ever imagined. No matter how he tried to grasp this, Alucard could not understand, at least not with the miniscule levels of thinking that were restoring themselves, how this fit that plan.

He felt no power, only sickness, weakness, and pain. It tore at him, unraveling the thinning threads of his mind. Alucard dimly wondered if this was their plan. A plan to take the world's most powerful beast, and dim it down to the level of a dog so it would use its power for nothing but what its trainer commanded.

Alucard groaned, opening his eyes slightly to wince at how bright the room was, but as he looked around, he could find no light source. The vampire clamped his eyes shut, dropping his goal to just moving his body in any way he could.

He could feel the stone under his fingers, and the rough surface sliding against his oddly sensitive skin told him they were moving. Alucard worked each bit of his form in this same way, only having trouble moving his legs. After a bit of work, everything seemed to at least move, whether it moved as he wanted it to or not, it moved.

The stone did not feel cool nor warm. It was as if he had no sense for such a thing any longer. The air didn't even seem to have a temperature. He had always been dulled to such things, but never had it been non-existent to him.

Alucard's next task was to work his limbs into some kind of motion together. Pain and hunger thrummed through his body, but those seemed unimportant. There was no food here, and he likely wouldn't be able to work his muscles together to attack.

Curling his fingers into fists, Alucard managed to force his arms against the stone, pushing the upper part of his body upward. It was such a simple movement, but he took great joy in his ability to perform it. Alucard opened his eyes, squinting them at the bright room. He wanted someone to celebrate his success with, but only the beady eyes of a huddled rat watched him from a corner of the tiny holding cell.

Oddly, he smiled at the rat, eager to show his audience that he could manage alone. Thought was slowly returning, but only at the weakest of levels.

Alucard wobbled, managing to pull his legs under him. The movements were not smooth they held no grace. Instead, his muscles were jerky, as if his nerves were not connecting well within his brain.

Slowly, and with a few tries, Alucard managed to stand. He looked to the rat, smiling slightly as he leaned against the wall. The rat's nose twitched as it watched with unintelligent eyes, the soul witness to the fallen king's small victories.

Alucard leaned against the wall, still smiling as if he had overcome a great obstacle. He stood thus for a long moment as thought finally began coming back to him. With it came realization. He was an experiment. He was hardly better than the rat he shared the holding cell with.

"Come to me, Little Beast," Alucard growled, his voice horse. He sank to his knees and rested the tips of his fingers on the stone. He spoke in his native tongue without realizing, or caring. His mind had returned, though more unraveled and broken than before.

The rat, overcome by the vampire's will, scurried forward, tickling the ends of Alucard's fingers with its whiskers. Alucard stared down at the rat, his vision now adjusting. It seemed the doctors wanted to improve his vision. He ran his fingers over the rat's rough fur, and then he slowly, carefully, picked the animal up delicately in both hands. The graceful movements had returned to his limbs, but every movement seemed finer, quicker, as if he possessed more control over himself.

Slowly, Alucard wrapped his fingers around the furry beast. At first he just stared at the creature, but slowly a darker purpose made itself known as he tightened his grip. The rat squeaked, and began to struggle as its air supply was being cut short, but its cries of terror only birthed a grin upon the vampire's face. Laughing darkly, he continued, ever so slowly, to squeeze the rat to its death.

The creature stopped struggling as it's eyes began to poke out. Small snapping sounds echoed about the cell, and blood suddenly streamed down Alucard's hand as he continued to tighten his grip. Bones poked from the ragged fur, and the squeaks of pain finally stopped. Alucard's grin had been widening, and split his face in an inhuman display of teeth.

Relaxing his grip, Alucard's eyes followed the tiny body as it plopped wetly against the stone floor. With thin, careful fingers, the vampire pulled several of the protruding bones from the rat's body. Reaching to his hair, Alucard pulled a few strands free, and bound these bones together in a haphazard version of a stake, and carefully impaled the mangled body upon it.

Like a cat who gifts its owner with dead birds, Alucard settled the gruesome display at the bars of the door to his cell, making sure those who came to torment him again the next night, would see their future upon the small furred beast.


End file.
